


Strange Bedfellows

by snackbaskets



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Bat Family, Batfamily Feels, Batfamily Shenanigans, Duke-centric, Family Bonding, Family Dynamics, Family Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Jason is a Dork, Latino Jason Todd, Stephanie Brown is a Gift, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, and he also had no idea he was speaking it, but lovingly, duke had no idea there was a secret manor language for ''someone come cuddle me'', jason is roped into it and bullies him a lot, steph enlightens him and only bullies him a little bit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-08
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2020-04-19 16:29:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19136434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snackbaskets/pseuds/snackbaskets
Summary: Little known fact about bats: they're AWFUL at sleeping alone. At least, the ones in the Manor seem to be, if the half-conscious kind-of-maybe siblings using Duke as a body pillow are any indication. When did he sign up for this?





	Strange Bedfellows

**Author's Note:**

> sniper across the roof, aiming directly at my dick: hes doing it again boss should i take the shot
> 
> me, standing on the rooftop and shouting very loudly: I LOVE DUKE THOMAS! I LOVE DUKE! DUKE THOMAS! I LOVE HIM! I LOVE DUKE THO
> 
> man over the radio: no. let him speak

Here are some things Duke had expected when he moved into Wayne Manor: It was big. Bigger than was ever going to be even remotely necessary. There were _seventeen_ bedrooms. 

It was nauseatingly expensive. Everywhere he looked, there was another quadrillion-dollar vase, or an ancient family heirloom, or an honest-to-god renaissance painting. Duke wasn’t a stranger to wealth, or anything, but the Waynes were on a whole other level. But he’d expected that.

People came and went at any hours of the day. He’d wake up at 3 A.M. to find one bat making eggs in the kitchen and come back at 5 A.M. to find a different one asleep on the table, with no sign of the former other than the faint smell of bacon grease in the air. 

Again, he expected that. He’d come into this thing prepared for the weird training montages that happened where and whenever, the surreal experience of watching someone do their own stitches and talk about gardening at the same time, the sheer volume of superhero-vigilantes that packed into the house, and the knowledge that he was living with some ex-and-maybe-current assassins-- he was ready for all of that. 

What he _hadn’t_ expected was Batgirl crawling into his bed in the middle of the night and acting like she lived there. 

“Uh, Stephanie?”

“Nyuh.”

“You know this… isn’t your room, right?”

She wiggled closer to him, snagging his t-shirt in an iron grip as Duke tried to politely maintain his distance and hauling herself bodily onto his chest, swinging one leg over his hip and settling herself there, clumsily patting his cheek. 

“Buh.”

“Um?” he squeaked. 

Duke might have been a modest sleeper, wore pajamas like a respectable person, but he still felt absolutely _naked_ with Steph using him as a body pillow. She, herself, was only in a massive shirt (Bruce’s, and he hated that he’d been trained well enough to discern that with a half-naked woman flopping around his bed) and a pair of underpants with… frogs on them? At least, they sure looked like frogs in the moonlight from his window, and he wouldn’t put it past Steph to have frog underwear, and he was _leaving that train of thought alone_ because he realized he’d been inadvertently staring at her ass trying to discern some frogs, and if his mom were still functional, she’d smack him upside the head for it. 

“Steph?”

“Nhh.”

“You know, I’m not… totally sure what’s going on here, but, uh. I feel like I should say that while you’re a really nice girl and all, I’m not really looking for anything right now, and I think this is technically incest, so--”

Steph lifted her head off his chest and squinted at him.

“Door. Open. Sleep.”

“You know, I understand those words individually.”

“Manor rules.”

“No running in the halls?”

She groaned and sat up, rubbing her temples.

“Manor rules. If the door’s open, bed’s free game.”

“That was definitely _not_ in the lecture Bruce gave me.”

“Nnnh…,” she waved a hand about the air, eyes scrunched shut and face pinched, “‘s a family rule. Like don’t talk about Jason chewin’ on his fingers, or don’t snitch when you catch Dick on the chandeliers.”

“Sorry, Dick does _what_?”

“Look up sometime, bird boy.”

“Technically, I’m not a bird--”

Steph covered his face with her hand.

“Irrelevant. Door open. Sleep time.”

Steph settled back down onto Duke’s chest, smushing her face against his shirt and trapping him against her side. 

“Sorry, but I gotta ask. Doesn’t it get weird? I mean, isn’t this kinda awkward for you? ‘Cause it’s kinda awkward for me, I’ll be honest.”

She groaned, louder this time. It reminded him of the noise Titus made when he needed to go outside.

“We use a communal shower, Duke. How is that not more awkward than this?”

“Oh, no, that’s awkward. But I do this thing where I mind my own business in there, and also, am not used as a body pillow in my vulnerability.”

“You’ve never used the showers while Dick’s in there, have you?”

“Oh, God. I’m never using them again, after this conversation.” 

“Uuuhhhng. Stop being such a baby, Duke. You’ve seen Batman’s bare ass, who gives a shit about anything, anymore. Let go of your shame and live a free life.”

“I’m good living my life as-is.”

“Are you gonna shut up and go back to sleep anytime soon, or am I putting you in a sleeper hold? Honestly. Who’s this chatty getting woken up at ass-A.M.?”

“In my defense, I was never asleep in the first place.”

She huffed and sat up again, but this time, she hauled Duke upright with her.

“Alright, that’s it. Let’s go.”

“Whuh-- where? What are you--hey! I like this shirt, Steph, don’t stretch it out!” 

Like a frighteningly strong zombie, Steph shuffled out of bed, dragging Duke behind her and pointedly ignoring his trying to wiggle out of her grasp. Foolish. Everyone knew Stephanie’s grip was ironclad. Resistance was an exercise in futility.

“Where exactly are you taking me? Are they ever gonna find my body?”

“Jason’s room. So if you don’t stop talking, no. No they will not.”

“ _Jason’s--_ are you _nuts_? He could break you in half! He could break me in half! I don’t wanna get broken in half, Stephanie. I got things to live for.”

“Then shut. _Uuuuuup_.”

He complied, if only because Steph was equally as capable of breaking him in half. Jason’s room was only a few doors further down the hall, with strips of caution tape across the door and a dinged-up metal sign that said “CUIDADO: RIESGO BIOLOGICO” and had what looked like a few bullet holes punched through it. Duke feared a similar fate.

Either oblivious to his distress or, more likely, unconcerned with it, Steph pushed open the cracked door and dragged Duke behind her, kicking it back half-shut and shuffling across the carpet to the bed, where the sleeping form of Jason Todd lay sprawled across the sheets. He cracked open an eye as Steph approached him, and it seemed to glow a little in the darkness. Duke would freely admit to making a sound not unlike air leaking from a balloon.  
Steph finally let go of Duke’s shirt long enough to flop onto the bed, settling on Jason’s back like it was a pillow and not a wall of human meat-muscle, and pausing with her leg halfway in the air to squint at the still-standing Duke, who was about 70% sure that he would be shot if he moved. 

“Ya gonna stand there all night?” Jason growled, even deeper and more like he’d been chewing glass than usual. Duke felt all of his marrow politely try to excuse itself from his bones.

“I’m good. I’ll just. Go.”

“Ugghh. Duke, just get in bed. Gotta get used to it sooner or later.”

“Bruce didn’t tell ‘im Manor rules, huh?”

“Nope.”

“‘S better ta let her have her way. ‘Sides, next time it might be Dick lookin’ fer ya, and ya won’t get outta that one ‘less you’re dyin’.”

Duke took a step backward, and Stephanie snatched the front of his shirt again.

“I’ll throw you,” she warned.

He cast a frantic glance at Steph, who looked more sleep-cranky than anything, to Jason, who still managed to look indescribably intimidating laying on his stomach with his face mushed into a pillow. He grinned, all crooked teeth and wicked, glowy-but-not-quite eyes.

“‘Watcha ‘fraid of, Tommy? I don’t bite so hard.”

Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck that.

“Nope! I’m out. Night, Steph! Please don’t hunt me for sport, Jaso--”

Before he could so much as turn around, Steph swung her leg over and planted it square on Duke’s sternum, snapping her other hand out to fist against the shoulder she hadn’t already locked in her devil’s grip, and he had precisely enough time to think ‘no fucking way this is happening’ before the world turned upside down. A moment later, he felt all the wind rush out of his body as he bounced against the mattress, nearly pitching over the other side of the bed and onto the floor. Steph pointed at him threateningly.

“If you try to leave, I’ll sic Cass on you,” she said, scratching the backside of her frog panties.

“I believe you,” he replied, terrified for his goddamn life.

Then, as if she _hadn’t_ just thrown a man twice her weight like a ragdoll, she settled back down atop Jason’s shoulder-- bare, Duke noted, as was the rest of his torso; he sent a brief prayer that he was at least wearing pants-- and hooked her heel around his hip like she’d done upon crawling into Duke’s bed, sighing contentedly and closing her eyes. 

He lay frozen on the covers for a few moments before carefully peeling himself from his precarious state on the edge of the mattress and tucking his legs under the blanket, using every ounce of training he’d learned thus far not to disturb the fabric around the bed’s other occupants. He’d just… stay here, then. Far away from Batgirl’s octopus limbs and the Red Hood’s deadly everything. He had no illusions about sneaking off; he might have been getting pretty good at the bat-stealth stuff, but he was no Cassandra Cain, and he didn’t doubt Steph making good on her threat if she caught him trying to wander away in to night. He’d just lay there until morning, and maybe try to get some sleep at _some_ point if he was lucky, hopefully free of nightmares and his parent’s broken laughter. He might not have been great at the stealth part of being a bat, but he could do repression and stone-still patience with the best of them. Duke rolled onto his back, arms loose at his sides, and waited.

Not more than ten minutes passed before Jason sighed, barely audible over Steph’s quiet snoring, and it was the only warning he got before Jason’s arm snapped out from its place under his pillow, hooking Duke around the chest and hauling him against his side-- pretty sure he was wearing pants, thank God-- and settling over his shoulders, bicep cast loosely over his neck. It was a little comforting of a weight, if he ignored every other part of his brain that screamed _THREAT! I AM BEING THREATENED!_ at decibels loud enough to turn his eyes to soup. Jason turned his head, his face close enough that Duke could feel his breath against his temple. 

“Relajate, kid,” he said, and with the length their sides pressed together, Duke could feel the sound rumble through his bones like thunder from an open window. In a way, it reminded him of his father. “I mebbe ape-shit insane, but I ain’t gonna hurt ‘chu when you done nothin’ ta deserve it.” Gotham clung to his words like the smog of the city did to the clouds, as if the essence of the place had made its home in Jason’s very lungs, made thicker and low by the sleep in his throat. It sounded like Isabella and her pollutant-rough laughter, like Dre and the Gothamite drawl he tried to hide, like Daxton’s whip-snap words that were so fast they were almost their own language. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Jason flash him a green-glowing wink. “ _Yet._ ”

This time, when he shifted the arm over Duke’s shoulders, it didn’t feel so much like a threat as it did an assurance. Duke loosened the iron grip he’d snagged on Jason’s forearm as his heart slowed back down, but found himself reluctant to let go, hanging onto the warm weight like he used to do to his father when he was small. It made him feel… young. Like a teenager for real, hidden away from the world against the solid furnace of a boy only a few years older than he with twice as much grief dogging his heels, but who pushed on nonetheless. It made the state of his family feel surmountable, less like a noose around his neck and more like a distant ache in his chest. Made the phantom weight of the Signal’s armor press a little less heavy against his bones. For a moment, with Steph’s quiet snuffling in his ears and Jason’s cheap shampoo in his nose, he felt a little less out of his depth. Slowly, he relaxed into the hold, letting his hands fall loose against Jason’s forearm and sinking into the warmth of the sheets around them, vulnerable and, for the first time in a while, okay with it.

“Not so bad once ya get it, huh?” Jason murmured. “Even a fucked-up family like this one’s got’s the right idea every now’n again.” A moment of hesitation, then something that might have been a pair of lips ghosted over his hair, and suddenly, the mystery of Jason Todd clicked into place in Duke’s mind, and he realized Tim hadn’t been lying when he said there was a special kind of loving that came with being a bat. 

“Shut the _FUCK_ up,” Stephanie bellowed, and Jason lifted his head enough to cackle as Duke yelped and mashed himself against his side. He attempted to scramble back to a less embarrassing distance a moment later, but the arm around his neck was unyielding, trapping him close as Jason leered at him. 

“Not so scared ‘a me now, are ya Tommy? Ay, _pobrecito_ ,” he crooned, dripping with enough false sweetness it was probably curdling every dairy product in a fifteen mile radius, “big brother’s here, ain’t nothin ta be scared of now.” He made a few exaggerated kissy noises before Steph pummeled him into silence, and Duke made a note to thank her for it later. 

“I know where you hide your knives,” she warned.

“Like a knife can stop me,” he shot back.

He’d be a little more concerned if either of them actually made an attempt to move at all. 

A few moments later, and the three of them were settled back into the pillows, lost in a tangle of limbs and what felt suspiciously like weapon holsters but content to stay that way until the sun came around again, and they were back to being indomitable. 

Here are some things Duke _hadn’t_ expected when he moved into Wayne Manor: Bruce did more than sign some papers and let him crash in a spare bedroom until he figured his own accomodations out. He welcomed him into his home like it was as simple as throwing on a flashy outfit and punching a criminal in the head, and more than that, he was beginning to convince Duke that maybe it was. 

It was never quiet. The Manor sounded like yelling and pounding feet and bad jokes and inappropriate laughter. Sometimes, the laughter was his. He hadn’t expected that.

There was a rescued dairy animal in the basement who was unironically referred to as Batcow, and the only person she loved more than Damian was Duke, because he liked to sit with her when he cleaned the street grime off his armor. Yeah, no. Definitely hadn’t expected that one, either. 

Sometimes, the bats would all get together, packing into the family room and watching bad movies or wrestling over board games or doing things that almost seemed normal, like Bruce Wayne was really just a man, and the vigilantes under his roof were really just a gaggle of wild children being raised by a single father of eight. Duke was always invited.

He hadn’t expected a lot of things. He certainly wasn’t ready for the fact that leaving the bedroom door open at night meant the aforementioned family piling into his bed in various states of undress and directing pointed threats to his bodily health if he didn’t square up and cuddle with them. He was in no way, shape, or form ready for that bombshell.

Lastly, though? He’d be fine leaving his door open more often.

**Author's Note:**

> i wanna say thank you again for all the kind things you say in the comments!!!! hearing from you guys and knowing what youre thinking and that youre happy with what i write is so much of what pushes me to write more and im so glad youre enjoying the little bat drabbles ive gotten so far, i feel like theyre really helping me improve as a writer!!!   
> as always im happy to hear suggestions or thoughts!!
> 
> i doubt this one will get as much traction because its more duke centric but if i have to build and populate the tag my damn self you can bet your ass i will. this is a LOVE DUKE ZONE


End file.
